


Misgivings

by killunary



Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: #BLACKLIVESMATTER, #NoJusticeNoPeaceNoRacistPolice, Amane has no speaking lines in the fic, Gen, Officer Canary AU, but she's physically present in it and so, she's been tagged
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-11
Updated: 2016-07-11
Packaged: 2018-07-22 22:12:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 711
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7455793
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/killunary/pseuds/killunary
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She hadn't even put her badge on yet and already knew wearing it proudly was a luxury afforded only to her white counterparts.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Misgivings

**Author's Note:**

> My first introduction to the term “safe black” was during my community’s outrage to Poussey’s tragic death. I was puzzled the moment I laid eyes on the term but the more I read post after post of my people’s anger and sadness over poor Poussey, the more I realized that calling Poussey a “safe black” was the truest, realest shit. Lol I feel like the younger, shyer, reserved me would’ve been a “safe black” in the eyes of these wretched white people. Lol I just KNOW my white teachers saw me as one. My stuttering crippled me severely socially and so I was painfully shy and reserved, only speaking when spoken to and when necessary, only having the courage to brave my stuttering while in school to a select few students like my best friend Crystal. I stayed in my shell, in my head, where I knew I could avoid having to face the shame and frustration and sadness of my severe stutter. I kept my eyes either on a book or on my phone. I was quite the “safe black”. If I had been the main character of a TV show and had gained favor from the white audience, they would’ve mourned me. After all, I wasn’t like those OTHER “ghetto” black people. I was a “respectable” black. I acted like what they wished all my people acted like and so, the crackers consider me worth living and breathing amongst them while in the same breath conjuring all these bullshit excuses as to why the “ghetto”, “rebellious” blacks deserved to have their blood unjustly spilled until the sweet breath of life permanently escaped their bodies. Lol here’s the kicker though! For so long, I desperately WISHED to be like my people who the crackers considered “ghetto”. They were so full of life and vigor and energy and I loved it! I wanted to have be as energetic and passionate as them. I had been so jealous! Lol so if it weren’t for my stuttering, I probably would’ve been a part of the same group of black people white people vehemently condemned. It’s only by the grace of The Most High that in recent months I’ve gotten an unspeakably great handle on my stuttering like I talk to The Most High every day about how in shock I am that He’s blessed me with such unreal control of it. Like the stutter’s still there, just not as severe, more few and far in between and well, I love it! I don’t hate the fact that I stutter anymore. I’ve accepted that it’s a part of me. I’m at peace and with it and boy is it an amazing feeling. However, I love being able to talk more freely without any fear, without that sinking feeling in my gut. Lol even my older brother’s noticed the change in me. He says I’m a lot mouthier and lol well, I’ve always been mouthy! Just, ya know, in my head and not aloud but now I’m always playfully shit talking with him and about him and whatnot.;P #BlackLivesMatter #NoJusticeNoPeaceNoRacistPolice

Canary let out a bittersweet laugh. She had done it. She had graduated from the police academy at the top of her class. Soon she’d be serving among the ranks of both seasoned and unseasoned officers. Her dream was finally coming to fruition. So…what was this suffocating feeling in her chest? What was this heaviness? Canary sighed, turning over on her side. The statistics… So many people that looked like her had been shot and killed by the police. She would be granted a gun soon, would be granted the power to fire however many times she pleased at anything and anyone she deemed a threat to her life. But for far too long the power given to the police had been abused. An innumerable amount of bullets were being lodged into her people’s bodies, the number of bullets far too numerous for Canary to not suspect racial bias was at play. The blatant racism permeating the police force was unarguable.

Watching tears of sorrow streak down the faces of the victims’ families had always been excruciatingly painful for Canary. She had to do all she could to diffuse situations involving her people and others alike as nonviolently as possible because she  _refused_ to be the reason for black families’ sorrow. Her gun would only be drawn and pointed as a last resort. Canary had meant it when she swore to protect all citizens. In no way was putting bullets in innocent, unarmed people protection but _murder_. Canary clutched at her pillow in frustration, eyes hardening and tears welling up in her eyes. Murders that went unaccounted for and brushed aside by this godforsaken, corrupt system! Tears fell from the woman’s eyes. The victims’ families were already drowning in their sorrow over the loss of their loved one and for the system to rub salt in their wounds by robbing them of the justice they deserved sickened Canary!

Canary turned over on her back, holding her arm up. Her tears partially blinded her as her eyes traced every inch of her brown skin. Her skin, her melanin, though beautiful and a supreme gift in the eyes of herself and her people, was thought of as the greatest curse, as a defect in the eyes of white society. It incited within them an uncontrollable, unspeakable need to eliminate her and her people. Canary balled her hand into an angry fist before slamming the fist down on her bed. Just what was it about their skin!? About their blackness!? Why did it make them less of a person in their wretched eyes!?

The beautiful woman felt her anger recede and a ghost of a smile appear on her face at the thought of Tsubone and Amane. Her body tingled as if remembering and beaming over the warmth they had encased her body in as they hugged her, their love and pride surging through her. They had been so unbelievably proud of her. Tsubone wasn’t one for affection but had been so overcome with joy over her graduating the academy that she had been the first to take Canary into her arms, sounding choked up as she reiterated how proud of Canary she was. Amane followed suit, hugging Canary from the back and thus creating a warm, loving group hug. Canary had never felt more happy and elated than she had in that wonderful, unforgettable moment.

Canary didn’t shift up into the sitting position when her room door opened before quickly being gently shut, keeping her eyes trained on the ceiling. Her bed shook slightly as Amane plopped down next to her, crisscrossing her legs. Canary could feel her eyes on her, making no move to wipe away the tears still continuing to leak from her eyes. The bed shook again as Amane moved to lay down next to her. Canary’s fisted hand unfolded as Amane gently took her by the arm and turned her over. Brown eyes stared blankly into concerned grey ones. Canary continued her vigil of silence and complete stillness even as Amane pulled her into her chest, stubbornly remaining silent but finally moving as she brought her arms around the torso of the girl she considered a sister.

Canary closed her eyes, sniffling as she let more tears fall.

**Author's Note:**

> Melanin being drowned in red, while the shooter goes back to bed.  
> -Yara Shahidi  
> #BlackLivesMatter #NoJusticeNoPeaceNoRacistPolice


End file.
